


he's not obsessed

by sassastrophe (regulardudetier)



Series: i was laying on the sofa and you were fanning me [3]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Larry!!!!!!!!!!, Shit, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regulardudetier/pseuds/sassastrophe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">enjoy.</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Mm, he looks quite good in his uniform."

They're scrolling through tumblr in the minutes off air, something that's become a habit after they discussed it the first time. Nick still doesn't use his as often as he should (read: at all), but he enjoys randomly looking around the website.

"Look, they're so excited. Wonder why his girlfriend is in the stands though?"

He's referring, of course, to the new surfaces (heavily edited) photos of Louis Tomlinson that are floating all around the internet. The ones from his Monday night charity football game that Nick honestly could have cared less about other than the fact that it _was_ for charity (he commented on how kind-hearted Louis was). 

"Look at that one, he looks like he's crying. _Look at his legs_." 

"For crying out loud, Nick. You're going to miss the cue."

Oh, right. Radio. _Sorry Finchy._

He swiveled back to his desk, punching a few buttons and faders and lowering the mic for a quick second. "That was one of my old Big Things, [Diamonds](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOGBIbqXwYE), by princess Rihanna. Right. After this song and the news by lovely Tee-nah," always accentuating, "we'll do the waking up song! So text us now eight-double one-double nine if you need a good waking up and we'll get your shout in. Here's Jake Bugg, [Two Fingers](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9XwFecNXyU)."

Anyways.

"As I was saying, his- oh, why aren't you on tumblr anymore?"

It's Fiona who speaks up next. "In your own famous words, Grimmy: you're _obsessed_ with him."

He's not obsessed.

-

He actually dislikes the Doncaster singer. Not to a point of real hatred, but he's definitely not a fan. Louis' got this weird jealousy thing going on whenever Nick so much as looks at Harry, and he can tell the older boy was unhappy when learning about the younger having moved in to the area of Primrose where Nick also happened to be living.

Weird jealousy thing.

And Nick didn't know how to handle it at first, the icy glares and not-so-playful punches when they interviewed. But after a while, he learned that Louis liked to be in control, liked to be somewhat of an intimidation. He assumed this was due to his overwhelming shyness and lack of confidence throughout the X Factor. Something like that. (Harry had told him all about Louis' upsets throughout the competition). 

Nick didn't care about being in control, he was more of a fan of doing things at his own pace and letting whatever happened happen. He did, however, enjoy a good game here and there.

And Louis was a good game.

He wasn't planning on interviewing One Direction as a whole anytime soon and it really did put a damper on things knowing Louis and Hary no longer lived together, so he couldn't just show up and expect the twenty year old to be there. But he knew Harry loved Louis just the same so maybe, just maybe.

"Harold." He'd rung him up that afternoon after grabbing a bite to eat and doing a few groceries.

"And then they handed us this sign and it said something about bullshit, and honestly-"

"Harry!"

"Going on about- sorry, yea?"

"Bring your bullshit boyfriend to movie night?" He didn't have time for stupid stories.

There was a bit of a pause, and then "erm, he's not my boyfriend, but okay. Don't know how he'll feel about Toronto's finest, though."

"We'll watch something else. Whatever. Just bring him." 

And that was about as easy as the night got. Everything else seemed to become more difficult as the night waned on.

-

Louis loved to whine when he was in both Harry and Nick's company. More-so because he knew how much it annoyed Nick, for some reason Harry adored this childish behavior. 

"Harry," as the two of them were sat on Nick's sofa (Louis in Harry's lap) and Nick brewing the kettle, "do we really have to be here? I was thinking maybe, I don't know, pub night? This is no fun." How his voice was so high pitched, Nick had no idea.

But Harry smiled, pat Louis on his thigh, brushed his bangs back, "Nick can be fun! We'll get drunk here, don't worry. I don't feel like going out tonight, anyways."

Thanks, Harry.

He can hear a hushed tone, looks up from the stove to see Harry breathing down Louis' neck as he whispers to him. Louis laughs, eyes flickering to Nick for a quick second with something like malice, before back to his curly friend.

"You know, we can always just cancel movie night and you two can go make out in my guest room like school girls if that's what you want." It sounds a lot more humorous in his head.

"Bullshit," Louis coughs. 

"Right."

Movie night continues on once the tea is brewed and popcorn is made. But the mugs are abandoned halfway through Casino Royale ("I'm just saying, he's an attractive Bond and meeting him in person kind of made my heart flutter like a butterfly") and instead they opt for an unopened bottle of Jack and some shot glasses. And they pause the movie.

"Real talk, what is it with you two?" Three shots in, Nick speaks up.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone on their blogs, so convinced. You're in love, management won't let you be, etcetera etcetera. Come on, I won't pap you out. What's the deal?"

Louis smirks. "Are you jealous?"

No, obsessed. _No, he's not obsessed. Shut up._

"Have you ever," Harry hiccups, "ever had a best friend that you'd do anything for? You know, like. Die for, or something. One that's closer to you than any of your other friends? That's Louis to me. Did we ever discuss something romantic? Yeah, but. That was around the time Louis got El, and I knew it wouldn't work out or something. So we agreed that-"

"Friends with benefits."

Nick chokes back on his fourth shot, both he and Harry shooting a look at Louis. 

"But that didn't work out," in Louis' stupid little sing-song voice. 

He can't believe this. Children. Treating romance like a game. Treating friendship like nothing. "Never does. I've learned that the hard way. You're either friends or you're lovers. You can't be the in-between. Someone will get hurt."

Harry's gaze lowers his hands piled on the ground, holding the bottle close to him.

Ah, so you got hurt. Wonder why.

"Why are you so curious about my relationship with Haz? Why did you invite me over, of all people? I'm intrigued, Grimshaw. I really am." Louis becomes more of a whiny brat when he's drunk, Nick notices. He's crawling on his hands and knees around the coffee table to where the radio host is criss-crossed, and Nick can smell the whiskey just a short distance away.

_I'm obsessed with you._

"I'm obsessed with you, obviously." Though it comes out as a joke. He's screaming in his head _kiss me, you fool_. 

"Oh?" Louis licks his lips, they're red and taunting and Nick might actually punch him.

"Oh, deeply and horribly obsessed. I can't stop thinking about you, poor Harold. It's all I talk about. Isn't it?"

Harry breaks out of his somber, laughs, and then points to the hallway. And he's disappearing towards the bathroom.

Louis is closer to him than before. "Interesting."

"Why's that?"

"Because," his mouth dangerously close to Nick's face, "I'm kind of obsessed with you, too."

Though this doesn't sound like a joke, Nick notes as he brushes a hand through his melted quiff.

There's a moment of silence between the two, painfully awkward, and Nick makes to help himself up and walk away before the situation becomes painfully dangerous instead, but Louis is grabbing his wrist and pulling him in for a messy slobbery wet _kiss_. 

Nick barely has any time to register what's happening before his teeth clack against Louis' and the smaller boy is pushing against him with such a force that he actually knocks him over, settles on top of him. He's searching every corner of Nick's mouth with his tongue, tasting the alcohol and tea and " _one cigarette, I_ _only had one_ ", before the taste becomes somewhat neutral. Nick has his hands around Louis' arms, squeezing them tight. 

He moans briefly when Louis starts to grind hips against hips, before pushing him up. "Shit, Louis. I mean- _Shit_."

"I thought you wanted that," is all the boy says. 

Boy.

Boy does he want this.

"You're ridiculously drunk, I'm ridiculously drunk, and I think Harry fell into the toilet. Seriously. Shit." _Shit_.

"Shit," and they both look up to the hallway. Harry is standing there, rubbing his eyes with sopping wet hair. "I think it's time to go, Lou."

Right.

"I'll call a cabby, not going to let either of you drive." Nick is careful to avoid Louis' eyes now. Harry has no idea what's going on as he gathers his things and gives Nick a hug, grabs ahold of Louis who props himself against the youngest while they head out the door.

Leaving Nick alone with his thoughts.

_Shit_.


	2. Chapter 2

Nick plans to avoid Harry for about a week. Well. He tries to. Because if he can avoid Harry, avoid One direction, he can avoid Louis. 

_'Yes, avoid Louis. That's perfect. You're a real child. Avoiding your problems. Learn that in the nursery, Nick?'_

If he can avoid Louis, he can avoid discussing this not-obsession he has with him. The fact that he went to bed the other night obscenely hard and got off to the remiscing feeling of Louis grinding his hips against Nick's from just moments earlier.

Not obsessed.

So he plans to go on a short holiday with Aimee, get ridiculously drunk and make out with some Spanish boy who's name is Reuben (he swears on his madre's life he's Spanish but Nick doesn't know any Spanish people named Reuben), come back to London, and continue doing the Breakfast Show and sort of forget about it all.

But somewhere between making out with Reuben and coming back to London, he gets a text from one of the only people he wants to Avoid.

_What happened between u and Louis?_

Fantastic.

_**nothing. that's what happened. nothing.** _

The reply comes before he can press send.

_And don't say nothing because hes wracking his brain out right now_

**_is he??_ **

_Yes. He says you're a bloody twat._

_**lovely** _

_Nick what happened?_

And Nick can barely type out a letter when his phone rings.

"Nothing. We kissed, that's it."

"Kissed?! You kissed? You kissed. Okay. Alright. You kissed, that's. That's great. Perfect. Louis, I can't believe this _you have a girlfriend_ you- It doesn't matter that you were drunk," he can hear Louis shouting as Harry's voice grows distant, "and he's my best mate too, you kissed him! Shit. Okay. Nick?"

"Yes Harold?"

"I'll call you back."

"Alright." And the line goes dead.

And that's about it. Harry doesn't seem too happy, Louis seems mildly upset, and Nick is about to have a nervous breakdown. 

So he does what anyone else would do and he breaks into his own liquor cabinet. 

An hour (and many, many glasses of wine) later, he's dancing around his living room to _Evita_ and it's somewhat hazy because the dog might be dancing too but he's too happy to care.

No, he's not happy.

He's utterly _depressed_. 

"I'm an idiot," he sings to himself when the record ends. "Kissing my best mate's best mate, pushing away the one person I want, avoiding my best mate and his best mate and the one person I want, I'm an idiot."

He's drunk and singing and rudely interrupted by the doorbell buzzing over and over again, almost impatiently. "Coming!" 

It's not who he expected to be at the door, though. 

"Erm, hello there Lewis," he says, instantly frowning. 

"Jesus christ, did you drink enough for an army? How many _bottles_ have you had?" Louis pushes past him, throwing his jacket on the sofa and leaving Nick very, very perplexed.

"Yes, do come in...and just the one. Just the one. Although I'm almost finished and would be more than happy to start another if you're asking."

"I'm not." 

Nick closes the door enthusiastically, remembering that it's open and he is only standing in his trousers and his emphatic Dr. Dre tee. "Good, more for me then."

Louis crosses his arms, taps his pretty feet, Nick lips his licks. "We need to talk about the other night."

"I'm drunk."

"Yes, I can see that."

"And I'm in love with you." He's set the bottle down on the ground, emptied but for a few drops.

"I know."

"Oops, I mean. I'm not in love with you, no. Not obsessed."

"Not obsessed." 

Louis' moved a little bit closer to him, somewhat cornering him against the door. And Nick is stumbling over his footsteps, too intoxicated to really care until his back hits the door and for some reason, he sobers up immediately. "I don't think this is a good idea, babe."

But it's Nick who ultimately surges forward, cups Louis' face in his hands and forces their lips together. He towers over Louis, loves the height difference and Louis standing on tip toes to reach him and his tongue is battling for dominance because despite being tiny, Louis loves to be in control.

Right, he's just a game for Nick.

And Louis is making for the band of Nick's trousers, pulling at them and smirking into the kiss and Nick breaks it, steps back, panting.

"We shouldn't, I'm-"

"Fucking knew it. I knew it. I don't know how I knew it, but I knew it." He's upset, shouting. It's the same voice he heard in the back of the phone call with Harry earlier. 

"Knew what?" 

"You didn't want me. This is one-sided bullshit. I can't believe this, that I fell for you and your damn tricks. I really hate you." Louis grabs his jacket off the sofa, voice cracking in odd spots, and Nick is still really, _really_ perplexed.

"Shit, okay. You're not making any sense, and- You fell for me?" Really perplexed.

"It's not important." And before Nick can get another word in, Louis pushes him out of the way and throws the door open. He looks back at Nick, blue eyes paled in the dim light emitted from the hallway. "Goodnight, Nicholas."

And once again, Nick is left alone with his thoughts.

"Shit."


End file.
